The Gryffindor Traitor
by Matelia-legwll
Summary: "Please, let me redeem myself. It's not what it looks like. Trust me." Told in Wormtail's POV, Peter Pettigrew finally explains the reasoning behind his actions in the 1980s.


**The Gryffindor Traitor**

**By Matelia-legwll**

Disclaimer: I am not JK Rowling, for if I was, this would have been published in Deathly Hallows. And it is not.

* * *

Can't you imagine for a minute what it was really like for me during the first war? Can't you see my logic? I admit, I'm not good about speaking under pressure. My first explanation I could tell of my crimes was not very good. I was trying to prevent my grief-laden friends from killing me on sight. What was honestly the best way to answer them? A long, drawn out story of my mistakes? Or quick passing of the blame onto someone else's shoulders? I'm so much better at doing the second option, anyway. But allow me to stretch your imagination. I'll try to explain, if you can take my point of view in this mess for a few minutes.

What makes someone a Gryffindor? Were you offended when you found out I was one? You've been listening too much to Harry's idealistic view of Gryffindors and Slytherins, I see. Well, that's more or less to be expected from Harry considering Sirius, Lily, and James's idealistic views as well. But surely if you just give me the chance, I can redeem myself in your eyes by just explaining what I was going through and the reasons I made the decisions that ultimately led to my betrayal of my best friends.

I was always a Gryffindor. Even at my Sorting, there was absolutely no other house that I would have fit into. Beyond anything else, I admired those that had bravery, and I wanted to find a way to make myself brave. Yes, I was a wimp, a coward at times. James and Sirius used to tease me about it, and I took it in stride as I worked to make myself more brave. Being a Marauder helped me so much. How could a Marauder _not_ have nerve? We got in trouble for our daring and our nerve nearly as much as we got in trouble for our little pranks. And of course, we all were a bit rash. I mean, running around with a werewolf every full moon, with just James and Sirius in their Animagus forms to keep Moony in check, was foolishness when you looked at it with a clear head. And yet, we did it anyway.

There are those that point to my rat Animagus form as a sign that I was planning to eventually "rat out" my friends. And those that think _that_ are completely mistaken. It never once seriously entered my head to betray the boys that I had befriended. Rats aren't evil creatures. In fact, as a child, my only friends were the rats in the attic I slept in. They are small, simple creatures, not given to much thought, and at once perfect for me and perfect for the job the Marauders needed me to perform. It was a test of bravery each time, hitting the knot on the tree, trusting my small body to avoid the swinging branches of the Whomping Willow.

And so, as you can see, bravery, daring, and nerve were all traits I wanted and developed inside myself, and thus was always a Gryffindor. I didn't think far enough ahead to develop Slytherin cunning, and I never was ambitious, either. In fact, I was extremely lazy, which led to some witches and wizards underestimating me. My laziness overrode any sensibilities that might have landed me in Hufflepuff or Ravenclaw. So by dually eliminating the other houses from the running, and by wanting and developing the Gryffindor traits, there was absolutely no other house that I fit into. And honestly, do you think that James or Sirius or Remus would befriend someone in a different house, and share Remus's secret, and help become an Animagus also? Loyalty to someone is something I greatly admire, as much as you might disbelieve me, and I honestly thought I was still being loyal to my friends. See, as best as I can describe it, this is actually what happened.

Please, let me redeem myself. It's not what it looks like. Trust me.

* * *

I was a loyal friend—I was a loyal Gryffindor—for the nine years that followed my sorting. James and Sirius were the best. And Remus was up there too. I was humble enough then to recognize how lucky we both were to be included in the awesomeness of James and Sirius. We were the best of mates. We were the Marauders. I tagged along, gave them the proper credit they deserved for being so amazing, and enjoyed my school years with my best friends. I had always slightly envied Sirius and his closeness to James, but it didn't seem to matter, then. After school, James and Sirius persuaded Remus and I that joining the Order was the best thing we could do. It would keep us close, and allow us to help fight against You-Know-Who.

By the time 1980 rolled around, You-Know-Who was still gaining power rapidly. All our efforts through the Order seemed more and more fruitless. And in spite of the promise, my friends were ignoring me more and more. Remus had withdrawn into his self-sacrificing angst. Sirius was busy—flying from Order business to the Potters to headquarters—most of the time, literally on his motorbike. James, who had been the driving force behind keeping the Marauders together, was very much distracted now. The bride was hard enough for me to accept, but at least I had several years to get used to the idea of Lily marrying James and what that would do to James's free time. The Marauders and Lily had time to work out unofficial agreements about bloke time and couple time during seventh year and the engagement and newlywed periods. The baby, Harry, is what ruined all those unofficial agreements. He took up so much time and attention that when James did get time to spend with just us, the only one that really got James's precious attention was Sirius. So when James practically ignored me, what did I do?

Tried to get some petty revenge of course. It started out by dropping a couple hints in the Ministry about an upcoming Order mission that really didn't matter in the scheme of things. Nobody was hurt, the Death Eaters just got there slightly quicker than the Order had anticipated. James ranted about the issue, and I thought that that was done; revenge was taken. But when James continued to be distracted by his young son, his wife, Sirius, and the Order; and when Voldemort tracked me down personally, flattering me about the information that I had given and paying me loads more attention than my friends had ever paid me, my head understandably started to spin.

I accidentally let it slip that it was because of my Marauder years that I got so good at sneaking around, learning information, and keeping secrets. Voldemort viewed me with respect and admiration and asked if he could refer to me as Wormtail. Flattered once more, I said that he could. He left and my head kept spinning.

Was he really as bad as James and the others made him out to be? What about the way he looked at me? That's the sort of emotions I looked at James and Sirius with all those years. Was this heady feeling what they had felt all that time? Did Voldemort think of _me_ the way I think of James and Sirius? Bringing him down wouldn't be hard at all. Why were people so concerned? All I would have to do is hand Voldemort over on a silver platter to James and Sirius (who were practically indestructible in my eyes) and Voldemort would be destroyed.

It's odd how first impressions can be so flattering.

It took a month for Voldemort to contact me again. This visit he was much more business-like and he wanted some more nuggets of information about any upcoming Order missions. I dropped a few hints, just enough to convince him of their validity but nothing that could compromise the mission. Or so I thought. I had given just enough information to get Frank and Alice caught, and I resolved to be more careful and frugal the next time with the information I knew.

Lord Voldemort took three months to come back the next time, during which the Order had staged a successful rescue of Frank and Alice. So, no permanent harm done, I reassured myself. Lord Voldemort's flattery, however, broke through the barriers I had constructed for myself. He wanted me to take a mark that would allow him to spend more time with me and Apparate to his presence without prior notice being needed or intercepted. I let the possibilities of this mark in terms of an Order sneak attack flit through my mind as I agreed. He grabbed my left forearm and raised his wand above it.

I got my first personal glimpse of his cruelty—he made my flesh burn in agony as he marked me, paying no heed to my screams of pain. He left shortly thereafter with the order that I Apparate to him whenever and wherever the mark burned, and that no one can see the mark except for fellow Death Eaters. It was now six months since my initial slip of the tongue, and it was only now that I wondered what I've really gotten myself into, and whether it would be prudent to ask for help on this.

But I was on this path and telling someone would only destroy their trust and their ties to me. And now, more than ever, I felt the need to be connected to my friends. Not for Lord Voldemort's purposes, but for my own sanity. Maybe if I spent enough time around them, I'd be able to absorb some of their courage to use against Lord Voldemort.

It was the second time my arm burned that Lord Voldemort plucked thoughts and feelings straight from my mind without me saying a word. I feared what he could do with all the thoughts I had had in front of him. His punishments were just and deserved.

It was the fourth time my arm burned that the Dark Lord decided to teach me that resistance is futile and the only reason I was allowed to stay with and protect my friends was because I was a good spy. The Cruciatus curse was involved as well as many other spells of dark, dark magic and torture. I left repeating that there is no good or evil, there is only power.

My heart was broken the seventh time my arm burned. The Dark Lord was more powerful than I could've imagined. He took the knowledge of Marlene McKinnon's newest hiding spot from me, and it is the first time the information I possessed led directly to anyone's murder. I went over to the Potters and wept with them, but not for the same reason. I could sense that this wouldn't be the last time.

After Marlene's murder, the Dark Lord continued to trick things out of me. I blurted out things rashly in his presence that he managed to turn against the Order. Fabian and Gideon Prewett fell, along with many others. No where felt safe anymore. I searched half-heartedly for a miracle, but I couldn't bring myself to tell anyone else what had been going on between the Dark Lord and myself.

I mostly didn't care about the ideals that led me and my friends into this war. The dark magic I had originally hoped to use against my new master had twisted my very nature. How could I care about countless innocents like James and Sirius did? They were going to die anyway, no matter what I did. I would be extremely lucky if I made it out of this war alive. And my life is something I would rather not lose; no matter how miserable it makes me.

Then suddenly, in the midst of this turmoil, Sirius showed up looking for me. Guilt rose with the pleasure of Sirius having noticed me once more. He took me to the Potters and explained the plan to me—both the original that Dumbledore knew, and the bluff. I hesitated. I shouldn't even have listened, for Sirius would surely get hurt if I don't accept the bluff. But if I do, James would get hurt. But wait, why was _Sirius_ the one to seek me out and not James? The spark of jealousy and resentment that lit within me caused me to accept the bluff. This would be payback for the abandonment of my friends.

And so, Lily cast the charm and I was now the Secret Keeper. The name was ironic, but Sirius advised me to go into hiding. He always was pushy. We arranged a time on Halloween night for Sirius to come check on me. Halloween was always a good night for payback pranks. I had come up with a brilliant plan this time, too.

This was the first time I could really hand the Dark Lord over on a silver platter to James, plus I could potentially make Sirius a hero by setting up a trap of Death Eaters that he could defeat back at my place. This would prove it for sure—that they were SIRIUS AND JAMES and nothing could hurt them. The joke would be when I told them they owed me for making them into the heroes they would be. Then they'd have to look at me with admiration and worship because of what I endured so that they could be heroes.

I worked the timing out during the entire next week. Then the Dark Lord ruined all my planning by making my arm burn sooner than I was actually ready. I went to him at seven, worried now that Sirius wasn't scheduled to check on me until half-past ten. I tried to delay, but ended up telling the Dark Lord that I did know where the Potters were. He tortured the location out of me, ignoring my feeble bargains for sparing them, and left immediately for Godric's Hollow.

I was shocked. This was happening way too quickly. There would be no time to injure myself and warn James. I left for Sirius's, willing to send him in my place to try to save James. My identity could not be compromised by openly defying the Dark Lord, but Sirius could've blamed a hunch. Good plan, right? What could ever be the catch?

_Sirius wasn't there_. He was nowhere to be found.

I checked Remus's old place, but it too lay empty and desolate. I couldn't remember if Remus went into hiding or not. I had guessed that James and Sirius thought him the spy, but of course, I knew the truth of the spy.

I seriously considered what had only been a passing fancy before—Obliviating myself.

I decided that courage dictated that I hope as never before that my friends had lived up to their abilities. Then, shock of all shocks, the mark disappeared! Or, nearly, anyway. Some marks never come all the way off, but this was lighter than I had ever seen the mark. I smiled and headed towards the Potters, ready to celebrate their victory with them, and the freeing of my soul.

But something was wrong. The house stood in shambles when I arrived. Surely James didn't destroy his house, defeat the Dark Lord, and then forget to repair the house. It was quiet. Much too quiet. The Muggles hadn't noticed the destroyed house yet. The charm Lily performed must have lasted past me telling Lord Voldemort.

I changed into Wormtail, still reluctant to be seen as myself before I had checked out the situation, and crept into the house.

What? What's this? Despair and misery grabbed me as I recognized my best friend's body on the floor. How could James do this to me? He's dead and he didn't even try to defend himself, for I can't spot his wand anywhere near him.

Then, I wondered, who destroyed Lord Voldemort? Was it Lily? I climbed the stairs, looking for her. But no… Lily lay crumpled on the floor too. Then the Fidelius Charm was actually working still after her _death_. I looked around for my master's body and spotted his wand. Well, at least I'll get a trophy out of this mess, I thought morbidly.

"'at!" I heard and turned. Harry. The brat was still alive. I examined him more closely. He had an irregular cut above his brow. No, surely not… but Harry chose to comment, "'arry b'oom!" and even though I knew that that is only Harry's way of asking to fly on the disaster Sirius got the brat for his birthday, it seemed to confirm my worst fears. The Dark Lord, defeated _not_ by the invincible best friend, _nor_ by his talented wife, but by the _baby_. The infant who had never known anything but his innocent, sheltered home. How rude was that?

Suddenly I became aware of Sirius yelling down on the street. I left, changing back into my human form, because I knew he would never, ever forgive me for what he would find inside the house. I knew that he would track me down sooner or later, and all of my explanations that I was going to use, had I found him at his house the first time, suddenly seemed very hollow in comparison to James and Lily's deaths.

But one element of the situation I found in the house continued to boggle my mind. Harry Potter defeated the Dark Lord. James and Lily were dead, but Harry Potter lives. I didn't know how many times I repeated this as I wound up and down the streets of Godric's Hollow, Hogsmeade, Diagon Alley, and wherever else popped into my head before Sirius could find and catch up with me.

* * *

I eventually lapsed into silence and the betrayal hurt deep. I knew that technically _I_ had betrayed _them_, but I felt that their return betrayal hurt me more. I had trusted them to survive. I had trusted Sirius to protect them in spite of my lousy plan. They were Marauders! They were supposed to be invincible! The only time a Marauder is vulnerable was when a prank was being pulled on them. That thought made me stop. I _had_ made them vulnerable.

No! My grief couldn't bear the thought. It was more Sirius's fault than mine anyways. If he had just been home when I went to find him all of this could've been avoided. Wait, if he just hadn't included me in the stupid bluff and hadn't told me the original plan, none of this could've happened. Lily and James wouldn't be dead, Sirius wouldn't be searching, and I wouldn't be running. Sirius would've been the Secret Keeper and he would've defied the Dark Lord and died first.

I swallowed.

Would death be my fate anyway? No. I would just have to play another prank on another Marauder and hope that this time turned out better than the last. Harry would keep Sirius busy long enough. Sirius would make sure the boy was safe and cared for before he chased me down. And so, I decided to practice the elements that the prank would require. I held the Dark Lord's wand behind my back and practiced the explosion spell in a deserted moor. I picked my spot carefully making sure I was positioned above a Muggle sewer. I practiced sweeping my cloak off quickly. I had to make this prank believable and fast.

And so, when Sirius finally found me, I was ready for him. I shouted out for the whole street to hear of Sirius's betrayal. "Lily and James, Sirius! How could you?" The words fanned _my_ betrayal, but I tried to refocus them on Sirius having not been there to protect James. And before Sirius could do more than growl and point his wand at me, I moved into action, severed my finger as I blew up the pavement beneath me, deep enough for me to see the sewers. Quickly ripping off my destroyed cloak, I transformed into Wormtail and scurried off to the sewers before anyone could see or gain their bearings after the explosion. The last sound I heard of that street was Sirius's crazed laughter.

It was nice to think that he appreciated the joke.

* * *

A/N: I just had to write all this down. ^_^ Silly plot bunnies!

And finally, Peter's Redemption is complete.

Thanks for reading!


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